Feats of Strength - The Intense Edition

By Ray Wilder

Published on Aug 20, 2019

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Feats of Strength - The Intense Edition

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Original version of Feats Of Strength Copyright 1996 Ray Wilder. All Rights Reserved.

Revised version of Feats Of Strength - The Intense Edition Copyright 2019 Ray Wilder. All Rights Reserved.

This is definitely not your grandma's Feats Of Strength. The original had a little bit of jiz in the opening and then calmed down and became a pretty normal, run-of-the-mill, show-it-on-Saturday-morning-television-sword-and-sandals-kinda-feats-of-strength story. Not anymore, me bucko. This time, our hero is getting his rocks off in a big way.

Just warning you.

R.W.

==========================

When I was young I would wait with great anticipation for the old Hercules films to come on television. Usually this would be on Saturday mornings. Every once in a while no one else would be home, so I'd take off all my clothes except for my underpants and lay on my back in front of the television with my head on a pillow so I didn't have to hold my head up. On either side of me was a large, over-stuffed armchair with fat, wooden legs.

Invariably during the film, someone would try to persuade Hercules to do something he didn't want to do. This persuasion usually took the form of the man of muscle being tied between two sets of horses or chariots or the like, sometimes with his friends buried in the dirt so they would be trampled if Hercules was unsuccessful in his might. The horses would be whipped and they would attempt to run off in opposite directions and Hercules' huge biceps and pectorals would bulge. He would grimace and groan as the horses tried to pull Hercules apart but this mighty muscleman was always just too great for the poor animals.

I would grab a leg of each of the armchairs and begin to pull them towards me, relishing in the way the muscles on my arms and chest felt under the exertion. And I would get hard. Real hard. My teen-age cock would stick straight up through the hole in my underpants and the head would be throbbing, right in the line of sight with the television.

During one of these movie episodes I noticed I was making progress with moving the armchairs. In fact, they got so close that I wasn't getting the feeling I normally did. So I decided to lift up on the chairs instead. My own pecs suddenly jumped in size and an incredible feeling washed over my body. I was working these muscles harder than I ever had before. And there was this guy on the television moaning and groaning and pulling and bulging. And I started to moan and groan, but it wasn't because I was being pulled apart by horses, though I wished I were. I was very close to achieving orgasm. I noticed a small amount of fluid beginning to seep out of the slit in the head of my cock. I pulled on the chairs even more. They began to actually lift off the floor.

I had never really equated this kind of effort with the development of large muscles. But at that moment, I knew what I had to do. And just as the back legs of the chairs lifted off the carpet and my pecs were aching so much I thought they were going to split right through my skin, I shot a wad so big that when it came back down and splattered on my chest, it covered my torso almost entirely. It was followed immediately by another one almost as big and then several others that drooled down my cock and soaked into the fabric of my underwear.

In that moment, my future was locked in place. I began to study the process of body building and the sexual enjoyment which that physical exertion beyond the normal endurance of the body brought me.

That was quite a few years ago. I kind of have to laugh because, as big as I thought those guys in the movies were, I am so much bigger than them now that I wonder what I could do with a couple of teams of horses. Or who needs horses?

The desert sun shines down mercilessly as I lean against the weight I am pulling across the sands. Two massive chains with links four inches in diameter are attached to my waist. The other ends of the chains are attached to a huge sledge on which sits The Tyrant and his entire entourage. I am pulling the shaded vehicle through the sand to the Place of Persuasion.

This is the fourth time in four days I have been brought here. Or should I say, I have brought them here. Each time I have foiled The Tyrant's plans to induce me to become his sex slave. He hopes I will eventually give in, as each trip offers a more severe challenge than the previous one.

The first is horses. Four of them attached to each of my massive arms. The Tyrant threatens me with this torture if I will not agree to satisfy him with my enormous cock. Not only do I not acquiesce to his demands, but I remain insultingly flaccid, silently daring him to give the signal to the horsemen. He waves his hand and the struggle begins. I should say a struggle for the horses, not for me. They pull in the sand and I pull back until all eight horses lay dead in the blistering heat.

In the hot haze of the sun, I can see his gaze as it notices I have not hardened a bit. My cock hangs loose between my mighty thighs, the heavy-hanging balls relaxed in their scrotum. The Tyrant may have hoped I would beg for release from this exertion but instead, I gladly haul the barge back to the palace with ease and spend that night in chains in my cell.

The next day I am again attached to the sliding platform and caused to drag it out to this place. Waiting for me this time are two groups of hugely muscled men. They wait on either side of where I will stand, each holding a great length of rope. I take each rope by a loop and brace myself against the pull of 200 men on either arm. Their muscles bulge but mine bulge larger.

One of the thick ropes finally gives way. I could be dragged through the sand by the men on the other side, but I hold my ground, my huge leg muscles swelling until they press hard against themselves thrusting my slightly hardening cock forward as if teasing The Tyrant with a possibility. In this tug-of-war I am also victorious. He is not.

This time, the barge is heavier on the return as it is also carrying all the men I had just bested. Chains await me once again in my cell, but I tire of standing. They are too short to allow me to lie down, so I grab the lengths and pull. My huge biceps swell and my pecs swell and my legs swell and my cock begins to swell and the walls of the cell give way and the rings to which the chains are attached pull loose. I lay down and sleep, my partially encouraged member sustaining the effect of my efforts of this day throughout the night. When the guards come to check on me, they are surprised to see the two gaping holes in the walls of the cell and me still laying there, still partially erect. Why don't I escape? Could it be my semi-turgid cock is indicating the level to which I am enjoying these challenges?

In the morning I am fitted with a kind of yoke. It is made from a slab of granite that weighs several tons. My arms are shackled to it with immense chains and then the barge harness is again attached to my waist. My enormous legs swell with each step as I carry the stone and drag the Tyrant and his party the 5 miles back to the Place of Persuasion.

I am surprised to see he is getting hi-tech on me. Waiting this time for my trial are eight large trucks. Each group of four is hitched to a chain harness which comes back to were I will stand between them. I walk to the center and place the shackles on my wrist myself, showing my disdain for his feeble attempts to conquer my strength. I stand proudly between the idling vehicles and wait for them to shift into gear. My huge body, relaxed and un-flexed, is still so enormous that the vehicles already seem to be insufficient.

I am huge. My 32" arms and 66" chest dwarf every man alive. My 48" thighs are so powerful that one kick could send one of these huge trucks flying. My back, so broad a normal person can barely reach across it from shoulder to shoulder, is rippling with strength as I adjust myself in preparation for this trial. Huge plates of muscle dance on my chest with each movement. My deltoids are so massive they look like I'm wearing football helmets on my shoulders. The flare of my lats expands from my tight, muscular waist up to this incredible expanse of pure brute force. And I'm just standing there.

Engines idle. Engines gun. The chain goes taut and I'm pulled off my feet for a second. I quickly regain my footing and begin to pull against the 12,000 horsepower on each arm that The Tyrant hopes will threaten to rip me apart. Surely no human body can withstand such a brutal attack on its integrity. He is so sure. His nostrils are flared with the anticipation of either my demise or surrender to his sexual demands. Either way, he will receive great satisfaction in my defeat.

My enormous cock is semi-erect. He does not understand this. I should be so engulfed with fear for what I am about to experience that sexual arousal would be the last thing on my mind. He has no idea what, in reality, this is doing to me.

The trucks engines rev, the tires spin and the air is filled with huge clouds of black smoke from the exhaust and the burning rubber of the tires. I swell. I throb. I am so huge and getting more so. My gigantic arms increase in size as I slowly bend them back together, dragging all eight trucks along with me.

The air is filled with the sound of screeching transmissions and grinding gears. The drivers are trying to get some advantage but I am too much for all of them. One by one the engines overheat and fail. When the last one sputters its final belch of smog, I am standing there between them, pumped, very pumped and very big. My huge chest is expanding to over 70" as I take great gasps of oxygen to feed my swollen physique. And my massive, semi-erect cock is dripping in a way that signals my intense reaction to what I have just experienced.

I carry the granite yolk back to the castle, but the Tyrant, for some reason, decides to make the slaves and truck drivers haul his barge back. I think I'm starting to get to him.

The holes in the wall of my cell have not been repaired. I guess they figure that if I really wanted to escape, no stone wall would deter me. They are right.

So now here I am. Back at the Place of Persuasion for the fourth time. Today the crowd on the barge I pull is extremely large. I believe I am hauling over 500 people, not to mention my granite yolk again. As I near the place I can see two large vehicles which seem to be sitting on some kind of track. The distance closes and the vehicles turn out to be diesel locomotives. They are facing away from each other and huge, two-meter long chains with links over 12" in diameter are attached to the rear of each one. This guy just doesn't give up. I leave the barge in its usual place and walk out to the track, tossing the granite yolk away like it's a small piece of fabric.

When I get there, I turn around and discover the Tyrant has followed me out there. He says nothing to me. He just stands there and watches as I attach myself to the enormous shackles. I smile. I am ready. He raises his hand for a moment and then drops it. The locomotives come to life and begin to slowly move away from me. The huge chain which attaches these three behemoths, the two engines and I, slowly lifts until it becomes taught. All by itself, each chain weighs several tons.

Just as my arms are stretched to their full width, he signals again and the engines stop. I am held firm, but it is really only the weight of the chain which I am holding up. He walks up to me and rubs his hands over my huge chest and plays with the enormous shapes of my body. His eyes drop to my groin as he takes in the spectacular sight of my length of man meat hanging loosely between my sequoia-sized thighs. He tries to kiss me, but I let my mouth hang slack so all he gets is some loose lip. This offends him and he slaps my face. I laugh. Here I am, strung between two locomotives and he thinks a slap on the face is going to do something?

He slaps me again and I laugh again. He doesn't know what this is doing to me. He doesn't know how much I revel in these feats of strength. My body was made to exert huge amounts of power. I long for the opportunity to use my massive muscles to their greatest advantage. Come on. Turn your puny engines loose on me. There is nothing this huge body can't do. The harder you make these magnificent muscles work, the bigger and stronger they and my cock get. Let me have it.

He is fuming at my insolence. He goes to spit in my face, but I guess he figures that would be a very un-Tyrantly thing to do. Instead, he grabs my cock and begins to manipulate it, attempting to stimulate it to erection. I show now sign of stimulation, so he begins to squeeze. Nothing. He pulls and yanks and becomes more severe in his treatment of my cock as his frustration and fury rise. He reaches for my balls and begins to make them suffer, as well. I remain soft in a way that would seem impossible unless I was purposely signaling to him my disdain and total unconcern for what he has planned for me, should I not surrender.

I glance down at his hand, cruelly manipulating my manhood. I laugh at him one final time. He gives my balls one final, brutal squeeze, releases them, causing them to swing pendulously behind my outrageously flaccid penis and then he signals to the engine drivers and steps away.

This is it. The ultimate test of strength. No one has ever been this strong. No one has ever been this mighty. I'm working my huge biceps and pecs and the locomotives' stacks are billowing clouds of diesel smoke and their steel wheels are screeching on the metal track.

I'm huge. And I'm strong. So strong. And I'm beating these machines. My hands are moving closer together and my huge pecs are pressing so hard against the inside of my skin they feel like their going to rip open. Huge muscles. Huge strength.

And then, much to the frustration and dismay of my torturer, my huge cock begins to thicken. And lengthen. And harden. And the juices from my overstimulated testicles begin pumping out a constant flow of pre-cum that pools and mixes with the sweat dripping between my massive thighs.

Thicker.

Harder.

Darker.

Rigid beyond anything I have ever experienced before. I can feel it pressing its massive length against the steel-like wall of my abdominal muscles.

My hands are four feet apart. My biceps are growing. They are 34" by now. My hands are two feet apart and I'm pulling with all my might and the power of my muscles is just radiating off me like some kind of glow or something. Everything is getting hot. The chain is hot. The track is hot. The engines are hot and getting hotter. And I am so hot I can't stand it. I have to scream with the joy of the effort. This is the best. This is what this huge body is all about.

And my enormous cock begins to celebrate the effort I am enjoying. And rather than causing me to weaken from the explosive orgasm I am experiencing, it feeds my strength, giving me the unimaginable power to conquer the two mechanical monsters lashed to my colossal arms.

I aim my thrusting pelvis directly at The Tyrant and unload a spectacular spew of jism on him. Joyous flights of cum spew forth from my magnificent cock. I shout in ecstasy at the unbounded pleasure of an orgasm stimulated by the massive exertion I am experiencing.

And now the track under the locomotives is starting to warp and buckle. A drive wheel on one of the engines falls off. Then another. Then the other engine fails and now I'm standing between two huge wrecks, their diesels huffing their last breaths.

And I'm hot. I'm steaming. I'm ready to pulverize the world. I walk forward, dragging the huge chains behind me until they're taut again. I stretch myself forward, my arms bent back until they can't bend anymore. My pecs are still mountains of strength. My biceps form enormous peaks, even though they are stretched to their limits. My cock hardens even more until it is aching with a pleasure/pain that matches the pleasure/pain I have gotten from my physical exertions. I hold the tension for just a moment longer until I am about to explode. My balls cramp with a joy unbounded and release one final massive explosion of my muscular, masculine essence, coating all the observers as I conquer this ultimate feat of strength.

Then I flex my biceps and pecs and the two locomotives come flying off the tracks and land on the barge with all its observers. They are so covered with my cum, they never see the heaps of metal coming.

I won't have to drag that damned thing home tonight.

Each of my wrists are still wearing the shackles and at least one of the massive links of chain that had temporary bound me to the instruments of my torture and ultimate source of pleasure. There is nothing more for me to accomplish here. I head off into the desert, looking for a mountain to beat up.

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